


It Will Never Be Enough

by CWhite12



Category: Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWhite12/pseuds/CWhite12
Summary: Elio and Oliver navigate their lives in the absence of one another, learning what it means to be lost without a soulmate, to only half love someone new. They begin to understand the significant impact their beloved friendship had on the two of them and are forced to face the challenges that lie ahead. (This is a continuation of the movie, with book elements added in)
Relationships: Oliver & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ~
> 
> I hope you enjoy. As stated in the summary, this is a continuation of the movie with elements of the book. I've read the first book but have chosen not to read the second based on everyone's reviews. I couldn't stand the ending because of how upset and sad it made me, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that I need proper closure. I intend to make this a happy fanfic overall. 
> 
> This first chapter is mostly the event of what happens at the end of the movie but you will see where it's divergence takes place. 
> 
> Thank you!

Winter slowly crept in before Elio had realized it. Time, it seemed, moved at its own discretion. Where some days passed in the blink of an eye, others moved at a pace so deviously slow that it felt like an eternity between the minutes.

‘It doesn’t matter either way,’ Elio thought. For him it was all the same. His world had become grey since the summer ended. In spite of his efforts to be his normal self prior to what had transpired over the last season he couldn’t stave off the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. And of course, something was wrong; Oliver was gone. Elio was reminded every day of his absence. It was in the places they had spent time together, moments in which they shared, the foods they had eaten, the songs Elio played for him, the scents of summer. ‘Oh god, his smell…’ Elio was recalling the shirt Oliver had left for him, the one he nicknamed Billowy, and how his aroma had filled Elio’s room after his departure. It was the smell of Oliver that kept bringing Elio back. Sometimes it was good, it made him happy to think back on special moments between the two, but more often than not it was bittersweet and sad. On several occasions Elio sat on his bed or by the balcony and let himself cry when those memories washed over him. He wanted so desperately to speak to Oliver. He was the first person in Elio’s life who was on par with his intellect. Their banter together was unmatched in Elio’s eyes and if wasn’t Oliver who had captured his soul, he’d be speaking to him right now about his pangs and Oliver would be the one to have some quip about it that would make Elio forget he was ever sad to begin with, but such was not the case. Elio had only himself to console.

This day was like the rest, most of the events melded into one another and it was all just a boring play passing before Elio’s eyes. He sat in the living room, sprawled across a chair, half listening to his parents who were directly across the hall in his father’s study picking out a new candidate for the next summer. This bothered him, for what was once a time to be interested in the prospect of someone new spending the summer with them was now replaced with the notion that it’s never going to be Oliver again. As if it cemented ever more that his time had come and gone and it brought Elio back to reality once again.

The other half of him was listening to music on his portable cassette player. If nothing else kept him distracted he at least had music to focus on. His senior year in high school was proving to be relatively easy where most of his focus was on prepping for auditions, most of which had already took place a year prior but he had chosen to audition again out of pure boredom and escapism. He played nearly every day, making sure that every note, every key was playing with precision and not without a touch of his soul, now with an added layer of misery that made every musician what they were. Elio wanted to be the best, to make sure he had his choices available to him when he was ready to decide. 

As he lay across the chair, the phone suddenly rang disrupting the rather quiet lull in the house before everyone gathered for super. He jumped to his feet shouting, “I’ll get it!” to his parents who were just about the pick-up the phone.

“Pronto,” He greeted in Italian.

“Elio? You there?” Elio’s heart skipped a beat. It was a voice he had on repeat in his head for months now. It was Oliver.

“Hi.” He said with an undertone of excitement.

“Hey,” Oliver replied in a similar manner.

“How are you” Elio quickly asked back. He didn’t have much time to prepare what he would say to Oliver the next time they were to speak so it was all a mess of quick greetings.

“I’m good. How are you? How are you parents?”

“I’m good, they’re fine.” He said taking a seat, his hearting rate increasing. He was overtaken with excitement and joy to hear Oliver again at such an unexpected time.

After a short pause to catch up with his thoughts, “I miss you,” Elio said yearning for him.

“I miss you too, very much.” The way Oliver said it sounded almost painful for him to say. “I have some news.”

“N-news?” Elio questioned. There was another pause. He could tell something was amiss. He laughed, “What, you’re getting married? I suppose?” It was the kind of question that was only asked when there was almost certainty it wouldn’t be the truth.

However, Oliver replied all the same, “I might be getting married next spring, yeah.”

Elio’s heart shattered just a little bit more. It stung. He had only said it in jest and didn’t mean it. He smiled again, almost not wanting to believe what he had heard and needed Oliver to clarify, “you never said anything.”

“It’s been off and on for three years.” Oliver replied. Suddenly the excitement and joy at once again being able to speak with Oliver was overtaken with anxiety.

“That’s wonderful news.” Elio said feigning excitement for him while suppressing what he really felt; jealousy, anger, heartbreak.

Oliver knew this and still sought out Elio’s opinion, “Do you mind?” He asked. Elio sat there with his leg shaking, he didn’t know how to respond. Before he even had a chance his parents picked up the phone in excitement knowing it was Oliver on the other line.

They greeted each other, telling Oliver how they were in the process of picking out thew new candidate for the summer and Oliver told them of his engagement. Meanwhile Elio sat back and listened in his frustration trying to hold back his emotions.

When his parents heard of the engagement they decided to cut their part of the conversation short so that Elio and Oliver could continue speaking, knowing what this meant for their son.

When it was back to just the two of them, Elio said, “They know about us,” with a little bit of hope that maybe saying it as if they were together meant that Oliver wasn’t with someone else.

“I figured.”

“How?”

“Well the way your father spoke to me. He made me feel like I was a part of the family, almost like a son-in-law.” He paused. “You’re so lucky. My father would have carted me off to a correctional facility.” At that Elio threw his head back in frustration. He didn’t care about any of that. He didn’t want to hear Oliver tell him things that made it feel like he was finalizing their relationship.

“Elio,” Elio said plainly and clearly. Reminding Oliver of that particular moment in time they spent together. He brought his mouth close to the phone so that only the two of them could hear, whispering quietly, “Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio…” trailing off at the end. It was as if saying to Oliver, ‘Don’t you forget this, what he had. What you meant to me, what I meant to you.’

Oliver moaned back in the phone, “Oliver… I remember everything.” He read Elio’s mind. It brought a little bit of hope back to Elio and he smirked at the thought of the sound of Oliver’s voice.

There was another long pause, enough of which Elio had time to realize the magnitude of what was happening. His leg began shaking again, his breathing became shallow and swift, his head sunk with eyes cast down to the floor, now suddenly blurred with the onset of tears. He tried to pinch them away with his hand, wiping them off his face but only more followed silently.

He was so overwhelmed with emotions, from extreme joy to extreme sadness that it was too much for him to bear.

His voice broke as he tried his hardest not to sound like he was crying, “Why?” was all he could ask. He didn’t know what he wanted to hear, but it was all he wanted to know. He wanted Oliver to tell him why all this was happening, why all of it had happened. He wanted Oliver to tell him why he’s choosing someone else over him. He wanted Oliver to tell him why he decided to call him just to hurt him. He wanted Oliver to tell him why can’t they be together. ‘Why, why, why??’ none of it mad any sense to Elio. He sobbed quietly into his free hand while the other continued to haphazardly hold the phone to his ear.

Oliver knew what Elio was asking, but he didn’t have a good answer, not one that could console him and undo everything between them. Oliver now sat at the end of the line, hearing Elio quietly cry made his chest feel tight too. He had to let out a heavy sigh to keep himself from tearing up as well.

“Elio I-“ Oliver began, trying his best to navigate his next words very carefully. In spite of his engagement, speaking to Elio now made him understand that he, too, was not ready to put that past behind him and move on. What Oliver wanted to say was ‘Everything will be okay,’ that, ‘Soon we’ll see each other again, and it will be as if we never parted ways.’ But Oliver, in his slightly older age and experience knew that it was more challenging and difficult than that. “I wish so badly that things were different. I… I have a career here, a life.” He knew that as hard as those words were to say, they’d be twice as difficult for Elio to hear. “I can’t put everything on hold while I figure out how to make things viable between us.” Saying that out loud stung Oliver, as if Elio was the one to say them to him.

Elio mustered a single breathed laugh in his hunched over state. “It’s just like you, Oliver, to back down when it gets too challenging for you.”

Oliver did not respond. Elio sat up straight, wiped his tears away and sniffed in as hard as he could to clear himself up. He knew what Oliver was trying to say and didn’t want to take that part of the discussion any further but instead brought it into a new light. 

He sighed so he could speak clearly now, “I’m going to be choosing a school pretty soon here. I’ve already been invited a few places, and plan on auditioning again this year.”

“Really? That doesn’t surprise me. You’re talented for your age, not to mention intelligent.”

“Right.” Elio smirked. He missed Oliver’s compliments. “A couple of them are in New York…” He trailed off waiting for Oliver to catch his hook.

Oliver smiled on the other side of the line. “I should have known you would pull something like this on me.” There was a long pause, “Elio… I have a fiancé now.”

It hurt Elio to hear him say that, it made him feel childish for still having feelings for Oliver, as if he should have moved on because clearly Oliver did.

Both the young men sat there in silence neither sure of what to say next or how to end the conversation. That’s when Mr. Perlman appeared before Elio in the door way, looking at the boy with pity and sympathy. Elio looked back with water filled eyes and could not stop the emotions that were about to boil over once again.

“Well then, I wish you the best.” He choked out the words, trying his beset to say bye while also trying hard to not completely breakdown in front of his father. Those moments, Elio preferred, were better kept for when he was alone, the moments where he couldn’t keep his breathing calm, and where the sobbing seemed endless. No one could fix those.

And before Elio could hang up the phone Oliver panicked, speaking up one last time. He knew that this was going to be it. If he let Elio go now, there was never going to be another phone call, another chance at meeting. He knew Elio well enough that he would respect his decision and avoid Oliver like the plague, as he had the entire half of this year. “Elio I want you to know something. I thought about calling you every day. Every day I would think of what I would say to you, and how I wanted to hear your voice but I never could do it. Then the days began to pass and the next thing I know, I’m engaged. And I am so incredibly sorry, I really, truly am. I hope you can forgive me one day…” There was a short pause, “I hope you consider a school in New York.” Oliver said without really thinking. He hung up the line before Elio could respond and sat there for a moment in his office at the school wondering if telling him that was the right thing to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I apologize about any grammatical errors.
> 
> Please be sure to give Stravinsky a listen! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btNfXh1ybeM

When Elio got off the phone his face was still red and water bogged. He stood up in a haze and stumbled over to his father who, in return, gave him a tight hug around the shoulders. Elio was only able to meagerly return the gesture, barely able to lift his arms up. After being embraced, he sobbed softly and shortly into his father’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” His father said quietly, knowing there wasn't much comfort he could offer him at this moment.

“Thanks… I’ll be fine.” He said, letting go as his father rubbed his back. He pressed a small smile between his lips and wiped his nose clear. He knew his father wanted to offer more and was having a hard time finding the right words to say, but Elio was grateful enough just be loved by his parents and have their full support.

Elio caught his mother’s gaze from across the room into their office. Her expression read that she, too, was in mourn for her son. She lifted her chin up and offered a soft smile. “Come dear,” she walked over and put one arm around her son’s shoulder and began to direct him towards the dining room while Mr. Perlman followed suite, “Why don’t you help us finish setting the table. Mafalda is almost done with dinner.”

She offered up a handful of silverware to the boy as he took his walkman out of his pocket and placed it on a nearby side table. He quietly took the forks, spoons, knives and placed them around each setting. Tonight was the 7th night of Hanukkah, and while the Perlman’s were a mix of many cultures and traditions, they still considered themselves a Jewish family at their core, and as such celebrated the Jewish holiday over Christianity during the years end.

It wasn’t until this past summer that Elio began to express interest in his religion. It was Oliver who was the one wearing his Star of David that inspired Elio to do the same. He considered it one of the unique threads that bound the two together and by that he wanted to be more connected to Judaism. If Oliver was, then so too would be Elio. But Elio began to consider the fact that Oliver was no longer really a part of his life. Why should he continue to wear his necklace if Oliver wouldn’t even see? As he placed the objects delicately across the table, he grabbed at the necklace pendant the moment one of his hands were free and gave it a firm yank, forcing the chain at the back to give way and snap apart. It lay clenched between his fingers as he debated throwing it into the fire while no one was looking. His other option was keeping it safe and stored away as he had always done prior Oliver.

His mother walked into the room before he could decide, forcing him to hide the necklace in his pocket, “Thank you, Elio.” She spoke to him as she passed, finishing up the last of the table settings, not noticing the missing necklace, at least not that he could tell.

Moments later the room began to fill with family members and friends who were in town for the holiday. They all took their places at the table, Elio on the far side of the room with a view out the window. The falling snow was mesmerizing to him, he barely noticed as the family said their prayers in Hebrew, his father and uncle reading the passages from the Torah. All he could think of was how he wished Oliver was here right now, at dinner with his family, them sitting next to each other or across from each other, just with the perfect amount of distance at the table so that it never seemed purposeful to anyone else but themselves. But also far enough apart that it would make Elio agonize about not being closer to him, enough to make his skin itch with desire. Elio wished that Oliver was having dinner with them because he knew Oliver would ask about the families holiday and traditions, offering up what information he already knew (which of course was always a lot to begin with) and letting everyone else at the table fill him in with all the details he had missed, allowing Elio to show off to Oliver again about his expansive library of knowledge in his head.

He wanted to share a moment like this with Oliver that only happens once a year, but he was reminded that Oliver was not sitting at the same table, that he was not there to celebrate with family and friends, and he was not there to celebrate with Elio, who so desperately wanted him there more than anyone else.

Elio sighed deeply and quietly to surpass the wave of sadness that was about to hit him once again. He took his gaze away from the window and forced his attention to everyone else chatting away while eating their supper. His father and uncle were laughing together about a time long past that Elio had heard almost every year and could almost recite their conversation word for word. His mother and aunt leaned into one another, clearly gossiping about the latest drama within their circle of friends. Elio did not care for gossip. His older cousins, who he sat near, were talking about their life in college over in America. It was just casual talk but it piqued Elio’s interest enough to focus on that instead of the heavy pain in his chest.

“What’s it like? American college, that is.” Elio asked, not that he really needed to know, he could probably make a fairly accurate educated guess. He had gone to international private schools his entire life, spending all of his high school years at a private performing art school in Milan where his father taught. His family, although mostly American, spent Elio’s entire life in Italy. It was apart of his fathers career and Elio never really considered anything else other than a European college until recently.

His cousin, a few years older looked at him, “lots of girls, and drinking and food.” He smirked and looked at the other boy, another cousin of Elio’s and they laughed together at the poor humor, but Elio could only force a half smile at the joke. “It’s great, other than studying all the time. It’s a lot different than probably what you’re used to.”

“How so?” Elio asked.

“There’s just a lot of freedom, y’know? Your schedule isn’t as ridged, and a lot more free time to do as you please. Why? Were you thinking of coming to America for school?”

“I have been considering it but I haven’t made any decisions yet…” Elio trailed off, picking at his food.

“Eliooo!” His cousin grabbed him by the shoulders in excitement, “you could totally get into Berkley and go to school with me! I’ve got a lot of friend I could introduce you to, you could stay with me in our dorm house! It would be so awesome if you came!”

Elio laughed a little, “Maybe, I really haven’t given it much thought.” That was a lie. Elio had considered New York more than he was willing to admit.

“With a talent like yours, why Elio you could go wherever you wanted.” One of his aunts chimed in from across the table who had caught the conversation. He heard his father laugh at that.

“Elio’s never been to an American school, it would be an entirely new experience for him.” His father said.

“You should really consider it, who knows, you might actually love it.” His aunt said again.

“Well…” Elio scratched the back of his head trying not to make eye contact with anyone in particular. “There were a couple auditions I did for some schools in New York.”

“I thought you said you haven’t given it much thought??” His cousin retorted.

“Yeah, I don’t know… I just didn’t want to make a big deal of it yet, I still don’t really know what I want to do.”

His family all began to hassle Elio in unison on what he wanted to do and what he should do. It always made him uncomfortable when he was in the hot seat, only his mother realized it and was able to put an end to the unintended aggression, “Please, please. Let him figure it out, he still has time. No need to rush him.” She silenced everyone and gave him a warm smile that Elio returned in gratitude.

Both his parents were aware of the auditions he had done. At the high school he attended, there was a week every year that was dedicated solely for the seniors and some juniors to audition for big college heads visiting the school. It was a huge event that every student looked forward to because in addition to the auditions they also turned the entire week into a performing arts festival. Class times were cut down to half an hour a day so the rest of the week could be focused on recitals or prepping for evening events. And while the freshman and sophomores could not participate in auditions, they were certainly apart of the festival activities. Everyone had a place to be, whether it be rehearsals, event planning, decorations or food prep, no one was left out and it was never considered a dull affair. 

Since his freshman year, Elio had always been apart of the crew that was in charge of setting up decorations at the school and at the local theater as well as taking them down. It wasn’t his first choice but in his first year he met his first and since, closest friend, Ferrin, who encouraged that the two of them join so they could get out of classes more frequently. 

The year prior to this past summer, when Elio was a junior, he, of course, was invited to audition by his favorite teacher. Elio could not turn down the offer and ended up performing one festival night, it was a solo audition where he performed a rendition of Igor Stravinsky’s Petrushka, a three movement piano transcription from the ballet orchestrated piece Stravinsky had written earlier that century. Elio’s performance received a standing ovation, to which he will never forget, and it was enough to land him several invitations that very night, followed by several invitations received by mail, all of which offering a full tuition waiver. Elio did not refuse, nor did he accept any offer, he wanted to wait until his high school years were over before making a choice, and thus decided to play again his senior year out of sheer enjoyment. 

Elio let his mind wander to his friend Ferrin while he sat at the dinner table. Since meeting Oliver, Ferrin was a safe haven of sorts for Elio. When the two of them were together he didn’t think much of missing Oliver. They were eerily similar boys, both from  
culturally diverse families who’s parents were both scholars. Each of them being multi-lingual, while Elio only able to speak 3 languages fluently, Ferrin was able to speak 5 including German and Russian. Both were musicians, Ferrin a cellist, and the two would often practiced together, sometimes composing pieces but never performing them; Because of this, the boys got along very well.

Ferrin’s family, though, permanently resided in America and that is where he would spend his summers and holiday vacations. During the summers, the two would exchange letters, mostly Polaroids from Ferrin with pictures of the places his family traveled. Elio would always write about the monotonous days of Northern Italy and the people his parents had over and the small musings he would have with them. However, this past summer Elio’s letters to Ferrin were sparse. He wrote about Oliver only twice and kept it brief with sentences like, ‘I can’t decide if I like him or not. He seems to disappear a lot,’ and ‘All the girls here are obsessed with him but I can’t find any discernable feature that stands out.’ Which at the time of him writing that was a complete lie, he was already pining for Oliver and his jealousy was escaping through his letters.

One day this past summer, earlier on, Oliver had seen Elio receive one of Ferrin’s letters along with a couple pictures Ferrin had sent with it. “Who’s that?” he asked as he held the polaroid up to get a better look.

“Ferrin.” Elio kept it short.

“Hmm. A friend of yours?” 

“Yep.” Elio was working on writing a return letter and pretended to focus on the paper in front of him but could not concentrate with Oliver so close.

“From where?”

“From school.” He tried to reach for the photo but Oliver pulled it just enough out of reach, continuing to look at it.

“He seems like a nice guy.”

 _What is that supposed to mean?_ Elio thought. Oliver handed the photo back over to Elio and tried to read over what he was writing but Elio slid the paper just out of Oliver’s sight. He looked up at him and gave him a look as if to ask, ‘Can I help you help you with something?’

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t writing about me saying horrible things like, ‘Oliver thinks he’s smarter than me, and likes to show off in front of my frie –“

Elio cut him off “I’m not writing about you.”

“Are you sure? I think I see my name on that paper.” He teased.

“Is that so?”

Oliver squinted, pretending he could actually see the words written out, “Yep. Right there, look, you said ‘Oliver is so handsome.’”

“You want to know what else I wrote?” He raised his eyebrows, playing along this time.

“Please.”

Elio grabbed the paper and held it out in front of his face as if pretending to read the newspaper. “Not only is Oliver _sooo_ handsome,” Elio started sarcastically, rolling his eyes “he’s the best tennis player, the best volleyball player and the best sailor this side of Italy has ever seen. All the girls are fantasizing about being his girlfriend and all the boys are envious of his statuesque figure, wishing they were in his shoes. Oh, but did I mention, he comes with all the brains too? What a catch, if only I could be so lucky. You’re really missing out, Ferrin, you could be graced with the presence of a god if you weren’t so far away.” Elio dropped the paper and looked at Oliver with a placid face.

“Hmm. Sounds about right, but you can’t leave out the part where you tell him that you, Elio” Oliver gestured to the entirety of Elio, “are too good to be entertained by the likes of me, god or not.”

“Oh right.” Elio grabbed at the pen on the table pretending to scribble more lines on the paper. Oliver laughed and walked away into the house with his own research papers in hand as Elio watched his back disappear into the shadows. He couldn’t help but repress a huge smile.

Elio’s mind wandered back to the present where everyone was finishing up their food and headed out to the living room for more drinks and more celebration. He didn’t speak much more the rest of the night and couldn’t wait for everyone to leave so he could head back up to his room to wait out the rest of the holiday, alone.

He was looking forward to the final semester of school and looking forward to hanging out with Ferrin again. Other than the few words in his letters, he never really told Ferrin what had transpired between him and Oliver.

“He sounds like a great guy, you said he’s an assistant professor in New York? Maybe he knows my mom or dad…” Ferrin said to him one day when Elio was talking about Oliver again.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. If he knew my dad, he probably knew yours.”

“Speaking of New York, have you considered any of those schools?” Even Ferrin in his memories was pressuring him to decided.

At the time, Elio really didn’t have an answer for Ferrin, “No…” He would say, “I just want to audition again I guess.”

Ferrin gave a light laugh, “Again? You already got into every school everyone here dreams of. Now you’re just rubbing it in our faces.”

Elio smiled keeping his head down, he knew it wasn’t exactly a compliment but it made him feel better all the same. “I had fun last year, I want to do it again. I had transcribed a short Bach piece this past summer that I think I want to play.”

“Why Bach? Of all the composer and songs to choose from, I thought he’d be the least of your favorites.”

Elio was thinking of the moment he first played for Oliver. He could have told Ferrin, ‘It’s the first song I played for Oliver this summer,’ but instead all he could say was, “It was just one of his pieces that I really like.”

Ferrin shrugged, “if you say so.”

Elio let his thoughts travel back to the present, where he now found himself laying in his bed. The one him and Oliver shared, he tried to sniff out any smell that lingered from that time but most of it had been washed out. He pulled the blankets over himself, trying not to think about what Oliver had told him earlier this evening and before he knew it, he was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi thanks for continuing to follow this!

Over the remaining couple weeks of his holiday vacation, Elio seldomly found himself outside of his room. He had very little reason to go outdoors, the Northern Italian winter this year was particularly damp and grey. It snowed or rained nearly every day, and most of the family and local friends had gone back to their hometowns by now. A few did stay and would occasionally stop by for a nightly drink and social hour but never lingered for very long.

His father and mother busied themselves with their own work, hardly taking notice of Elio’s absence, or perhaps chose to give him the space he was indirectly asking for. When he did come down from his room he would often find himself hanging around in the study with them, hoping they might engage him in some sort of conversation but it always ended up being him the one to speak first. And when he did, he found they were too interested in their own work to be interested in what he had to say. So he would grab one of the many books that he had taken home from his school’s library to read over the break, sit in a chair in front of the fire, and hope that time would pass quickly for him. 

If he wasn’t reading or hanging out in his room, he sat himself at the piano, quietly practicing away, his mind absent from the keys in front of him and the sounds of the hammers hitting the strings. He was a puppet of his own mind, trapped, he felt, in an endless loop of _I need to keep busy_ and _This piece doesn’t sound right_ and _I don’t think I transcribed that correctly_ and _I’ll go see what my parents are doing_ and _I don’t feel like eating today_ and _What is Oliver doing right now?_

‘I want to talk to him,’ He would think.

‘I want to touch him.’

‘Maybe this is all just a test to see how far I’m willing to go for him.’

‘No. He’s not that kind of person.’

‘I could call him.’

‘He might be busy. He probably won’t answer.’

Elio had Oliver’s number memorized. Before he had left, Oliver had written it down for the family to reach out to him whenever they wanted. It only took one glance from Elio to have it permanently stored in his brain. He repeated it over and over in his head until it stuck, and he would continue to repeat it months after just in case he ever got the courage to call him, which he had thought about calling numerous times but never did. It brought him to what Oliver had told him over the phone a few weeks prior, “I thought about calling you every day.” The words reverberated around his head over and over. ‘Every day,” Elio would think on repeat. 

_Why didn’t you just call me? I would have answered, Oliver, I would have. There’s nothing more in this world I would have wished for than to talk to you. To talk to you before you got engaged, before you were so distant from me that it feels like the entire universe has been placed between us and I at the beginning of time and you at the end. Please if you would have just told me sooner then maybe I could have done something different._

‘Like what?’ He would counter himself, and then doubt his purpose in Oliver’s life. He would ponder if this is what destiny feels like and if things could have changed or if it was fate's choice that he were to suffer so.

One night Elio found himself sitting on the side of his bed, his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them to keep them close. He gazed out his window, the evening snow falling delicately and silencing all sound that dared disrupt the night’s mood. Elio could hear the creaks and cracks within the home, the occasional scuttle of feet below or the low mumble of voices chatting in the kitchen while dinner was being prepared. He then heard footsteps come up the stairs and down the hall and a sudden but soft knock on his door. It was his mom, he knew it was her before she knocked, her footsteps had a smaller gate between them, more delicate than Mafalada’s and with a little bit more drag. Elio had learned everyone’s sound in the house.

He lifted his head over his shoulders to see her standing in the doorway with a gentle smile on her face. It was her first time the entire winter holiday that she had come up to seen him. He was little upset but did not let it get to him. 

“Elio.” She sauntered in, taking a seat right next to him on the edge of the bed. He continued to stare out the window. “Dov'è stata la tua mente? (Where has your mind been?)” She patted his hair, scratching his scalp a little. He didn’t answer, or maybe it was that he couldn’t. “You’re up here more than normal, and I’ve noticed you pacing around the house when you come down.” There was a pause. “Is it because of Oliver?” She knew there was no other reason for Elio’s change in behavior.

“No.” He answered.

“No?” She held out her other palm infront of Elio and in it lie Elio’s necklace, the Star of David that he had put in his pocket the night the two of them spoke. “Mafalda found this when washing your clothes. I don’t think that’s a very good place to store it.”

He took it out of her hand and stared at it momentarily, “I miss him, Mama…” 

“I know dear.” She put her hand around his head and pulled it to her lips, giving him a kiss in his hair. “If I had to guess, I would say he’s missing you too.”

“I doubt it. He’s about to get married -”

“And who is to say that barres him from missing you? Life is not all black and white, _mi amore_. There are always going to be difficult choices that we have to face in our lives, some are far more complicated than others, and some you will never be able to find an answer for, such are the nuances of living.” There was a pause and a deep sigh on her end, “I can’t tell you what to do, but I want you to be happy and I want you to do what is right for you. Oliver is always a phone call away.” She took Elio’s hand, the one holding on to his necklace and closed his fingers around it. Kissing his hand as she stood up and walked away.

“Mama,” Elio turned around to stop her before walking out of the room. “Thanks.” He said with a smile.

“You are always welcome.” She smiled back.

When she walked out of the room Elio lay himself down on the bed, dangling his necklace over his face letting the pendant catch the light of the room and reflect it back. He was beginning to understand that Oliver was also bound by fate, much like himself. _Was he forced into an engagement? But why didn’t he tell me about her?_ Elio would think, _Probably because he knows I would have protested. I’m such a child. He probably didn’t want to ruin the rest of our summer together._

‘Oliver is just a phone call away.’ He continued to think about it, but he still could not find the courage to call him this time around. He thought that it would be best to wait until after the school year to call him, until after he had chosen a college. Which at this point he was closer to a decision than he was ever before, and he knew he would have to tell him sooner or later. But now his confidence in the matter was enlightened by his mother’s words. He could talk to Oliver whenever he wanted. _Whenever I want_. It was never as if he was told not to, why had he spent all this time thinking otherwise? 

He wanted to talk to his parents and his friend, Ferrin, about his choice. His parents would instantly know he wanted to go to New York for Oliver, and they would probably disapprove such a rash decision. They would likely question if it were in his best interest to attend a school chosen not for his talent but for a person, a feeling that might not even work out for him. Ferrin, on the other hand, was likely picking a school from New York as well since his family lived there but he had yet to audition. He was a talented cellist player but did not have the skill that Elio did to be invited to audition the year prior. Ferrin was more aloof and would rather socialize than practice his instrument. It was because of this that Elio was able to meet more people at school, otherwise he would spend his afternoons in the concert room at the piano or on another string instrument playing away at something he had transcribed in his head. He knew that if Ferrin were to go to New York he would have a friend there, but how could he hide his intent to be closer to Oliver? _Easy_. There was no need to tell him his real objective for New York, he would just keep it stored away as he had all summer long. It was never needed for anyone else but him to know.

Elio smirked at the thought, allowing the necklace to drag across, back and forth, on the surface of his face. Oliver, New York, Oliver, New York, Oliver... His excitement was starting to rise at the thought of the possibility. _Oliver…_ again he began to think of that midnight on this bed they shared. “Oliver…” he whispered to himself. He thought of Oliver’s naked body, the first time he had shared it with him and he began to get aroused. _What I wouldn’t do to be beneath it again._ He wanted to feel the weight of Oliver pressing down on him, pure skin on skin. His lips across Elio’s neck and Elio dragging his hands along the small of Oliver’s back, finding their way to his front and down in between their hips as they pressed into one another.

Then suddenly, the sound of the dinner bell, pulling him out of his enchantment, the one Oliver has cast so many months prior. It startled him, he had forgotten that dinner was a thing, that eating was something needed to be done to live. In fact, he had forgotten everything about his world for just the briefest of moments while his mind traveled to a place so out of reach that if something didn’t happen to bring him back he might never return. He cursed it for being so demanding and persistent when it came but begged for it to linger as long as it wanted to when it did. A place so isolated and protected in his mind that, just like Monet’s berm, only Oliver was allowed to enter.

He hopped to his feet and attempted to shake of any leftover traces of where he had been moments prior. He put his necklace on the table for a later time to fix the broken clasp before heading downstairs to meet his family at the table. His steps were lighter, and he jumped the remaining stairs of the series to reach the landing as if he were in a hurry. He took his usual seat, it was just him and his parents at the table this evening, and the food in front of him looking more colorful than in previous nights.

“Well you’re looking better than usual.” His father said to him taking note of his lifted spirits. Elio shot a glance at his mom who smiled at him.

“Yeah, I’m feeling better.”

“Ah, what brought on this?”

“I don’t know, just thinking about finally going to college and being done with high school.” Elio began to shove food into his mouth. 

“And?” His father pressed on.

“And…” He dropped his hands down to the table and looked up to meet both his parent’s eyes. “Would you be disappointed in me if I picked something in New York…?” 

His parents looked at each other as if to say it was indeed concerning but instead it came off as they knew he would probably suggest something like this and they were to tell each other ‘I told you so.’ “Of course not, we could never be disappointed in you for something like that.” Elio felt like an entire elephant had been lifted off his shoulders and taken out of the room. “But,” there it was “if you’re going because of an ulterior motive you need to be certain it aligns with all of your goals. _ALL of your goals._ ” His father said, making a circular motion with his fork in the air directed at Elio. 

“I swear Papa there is no other motive!” He smiled and laughed.

“Uh huh.” He raised his eyebrows nodding in a sarcastic manner that told Elio he knew what was really going on. “You finish up your year and your auditions and narrow down your choices, we’ll help you pick one out and we’ll talk more about it later. You better not be slacking off, not that my son would, but I know how your friends are over there.”

Elio stifled a laugh, “No Dad, I would never.” He continued to eat with a smile coming in and out of existence. The rest of the dinner they discussed his parents work, his father in particular who was involved in a research project with recently discovered paintings that had been sitting in a warehouse for the greater half of the decade, many of which belonging to Rodin, but were never recovered after the second world war. Elio could not focus very well at the conversation being had, his thoughts would not allow anything else in other than his elated mood about what was in store for his future.


End file.
